MI4  Dubai Reloaded
by catfoxy
Summary: What if that jump into the window DID have repercussions? This is an alternate version dealing with the Dubai scenes starting with a well-known moment from the movie - hope you like it. Lots of Whump, I promise :
1. Chapter 1

**Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol –Dubai Reloaded**

_Note: No money being made, no characters to call my own, just a friendly little story about our favorite new team._

_Summary: _

_If you saw the movie 'Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol' you will probably remember those breath-taking scenes on the side of the Burj Dubai. You know, the ones with Ethan climbing and jumping all over the side of the building? I loved those scenes, especially that final jump to safety. It was beautiful._

_But if you go, literally, head to head with a steel beam, I'm thinking you are bound to see some form of repercussions from that. So my take on this is: 'what if'….?_

_Don't get me wrong, I think the movie ROCKED. As far as I'm concerned, Bond can go home. Ethan Hunt is in the house. In it. On it. And everywhere around it. *lol* _

_So, here is my alternate version of what happens on and in the Burj._

**Chapter 1**

"You're not gonna make it!"

"NoSHIT…!"

Hell, it was so obvious even a blind man could see it. But that didn't make much of a difference. He had to make it down there somehow or the whole mission was over. Glancing around he realized that there was no way he was gonna get a longer rope, so his only chance was a jump. Preferably with lots of run-up speed. But how to get that? Considering his luck with the gloves earlier, going back up was no option. Downwards… well, never mind that direction. That left the entire side of the building. Either way, the jump would be close to impossible.

'Just another day at the office.' Ethan groaned inwardly.

But the agent in him had already surrendered himself to the idea that his options came pretty much down to one. He tightened his grip on the rope.

'Let's hope this works better than the gloves.'

And then he moved. With long, powerful strides he swung off to the left, gaining speed every step of the way. Half way across the glass front his legs started to burn from the additional strain of actually running against the pull of the rope, forcefully bringing it around with him until he neared the corner beam.

Reaching his top speed right before the edge of the building, he skipped the last step, and with a mighty push he kicked himself off the façade. It was truly a beautiful arc. Had he been down on the ground, witnessing this poetry in motion, he would have probably applauded. But as it was, his hands were busy holding on to his swirling lifeline. The arc of the swing brought him around further and further. Before long he neared the point of release. Doing his best not to dwell on what he was about to do, he waited another fraction until he hit the right spot. Then he cut himself loose.

The timing was perfect. At first.

Then he noticed two things at once. The wind was speeding up. And he was getting caught in the flow.

It wasn't much of a draft, but it was enough to screw up his trajectory.

He only had a second to realize he was not gonna go through the window.

'Too high! Too high, too high!' his mind screamed at him, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He was gonna hit.

And it was gonna hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Where is Ethan?"

The look that Brandt passed towards Jane told her all she needed to know. She instantly regretted having asked in the first place, because she'd rather not have known _that_.

"You're not serious."

But he was. And from the increasingly worried frown on Brandt's face, she quickly gathered just how serious. As she stepped closer to the open window she could see that Ethan Hunt was currently hanging right outside the building, with nothing around him but lots of clear air. What was also clear was that his rope sure wasn't long enough to get back inside. Regardless of how he had gotten out there in the first place – and she wasn't even gonna think about that little detail right now - apparently his re-entry plan had somehow fallen short, literally.

When Brandt took the crown of irony by stating the obvious, though, Jane merely glared at him. If all went well, Ethan would be around to personally do more harm to the analyst later. For now, they had to get Ethan back inside, or they were screwed. The deal was going down in less than 26 minutes.

Just as Jane was about to call out to Ethan, her team leader suddenly disappeared from view again. It looked like he was … running alongside the building? She didn't know where he thought he was going, but considering this was Mr. 'I do the impossible for a living', she was willing to keep her doubts to herself for the moment.

That changed as soon as she saw a distinctive shadow moving _back_ towards them. Half a second later, the shadow was followed by Ethan's form, as he came bounding back at high speed, a tiny black spot against the enormously blue sky. And he was coming closer like a bat out of hell.

Jane's heart almost stopped when she saw that he was also reaching for the release catch on his swing line. Before either Brand or Jane could fathom the decisively insane stunt their team leader had just pulled, Ethan was suddenly free-flying right at them.

At first, Jane was thinking something along the lines of 'If he makes it, we'll have a lot of fun bringing him to a stop inside the room, he is going so fast.'

Then she saw the look on Ethan's face suddenly turn from 'serious' to 'worried'. Jane quickly glanced at Brandt, who had an even better view of Ethan's angle of approach, and she realized what Ethan had known before any of them.

He was not gonna make it.

At least not into the window.

Almost in sync Brandt and Jane moved forward. They reached out as far as they dared to try and catch a hold of Ethan, who was cannon-balling right at them, only way too high.

And then he hit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was a sound she would never forget. Like an iron bat hitting against a brick wall. And all of a sudden Ethan was falling. Dropping right down, past her, past Brandt.

Brandt managed to hold on to one leg, and Jane was just quick enough to hold on to Brandt, or Ethan's momentum would have easily dragged both of them down. Clinging with all her might to Brandt's pants – hoping he was not a cheap-shopper and more of a high quality clothes guy – she strained against the downward motion and managed to anchor them.

She couldn't see if Ethan was helping in any way from down below, but after a moment she felt Brandt inching himself backward. Slowly he made it far enough back inside for Jane to let go of him and move forward to the edge. Her goal was to get a steadying hold of Ethan's other leg, so Brandt could concentrate on pulling himself and Ethan up, without having to worry about readjusting his grip.

As soon as Jane reached the edge of the window and looked down, however, her renewed hopes were shattered by what she saw.

Ethan was hanging upside-down alongside the façade, with his arms swinging freely. His head was down. And he was not moving. There was no visible sign of him even being aware of his position, let alone any sign of him trying to move towards safety. He was obviously out cold.

'He must have hit his head against the steel beam across the window frame.'

It would certainly explain the sickening thud they'd heard earlier.

'Don't think about that right now, bring him inside, that's what's important,' Jane chastised herself, doing her best to remember that she was a trained agent first and human person second.

Together they pulled Ethan up. Just below the window's edge, Brandt carefully readjusted his grip from around Ethan's leg to his hip. As soon as Brandt was able to grab onto the sturdy material of Ethan's belt and vest, he began pulling even harder.

They were just pulling Ethan over the edge and into the safety of the room as the door opened and Benji walked in – with a big, satisfied smile on his face.

"I did it! Boy, that was hard work…"

The smile caught in his throat when he saw Ethan's non-moving form being just levered onto the floor.

"What the-?"

"Get over here, and help us! NOW!" Brandt yelled, having just laid down Ethan a good few feet away from the open window. He was already busy checking the unconscious man. With precise and well-practiced moves, Brandt probed Ethan's face and neck, carefully making sure that Ethan had not broken his skull or any other vital parts of his body on this damned foolish stunt.

Finding no broken bones on his initial check – a feat he would have to ask Ethan about later, because crashing into a wall like this without breaking every bone in your body was equal to the best magic trick he'd ever seen – Brandt then went on to check Ethan's eyes for what had to be at least a moderate concussion.

He was right on that account.

"His eyes are dilated. Looks like his head hit that beam pretty bad," Brandt cursed softly.

He then looked up from the unconscious man on the ground to check with Jane and Benji, who had by now found and brought over their emergency first aid equipment. While Benji grabbed more bandages from the bag, Jane was already putting the first couple of pressure compresses carefully against the nasty gash on Ethan's forehead. The oozing cut ran straight from his eyebrow up into his hairline, and blood had already begun to trickle all over the side of Ethan's face. With him lying down as he was, flat on his back, the sticky red rivulet was quickly staining the carpet beneath his head, as well.

Jane knew their main priority had to be to stop the bleeding. So she held the bandage tightly to Ethan's face, trying to disregard the fact that what she was doing was obviously hurting him. After a moment the uncomfortable pressure on the cut seemed to bring Ethan around somewhat. He clearly wasn't with it yet, but his eyes opened a fraction, seemingly of their own accord, trying to focus on anything above him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When she saw Ethan's eyes slowly opening, Jane almost sighed with relief.

"Lie still and don't even think about moving, okay?" she immediately told him, trying her best to make it sound like an order. Given the circumstances she figured there was a good chance that Ethan would actually be listening for once.

Or so she thought.

After a blissful moment of apparent obedience, during which Ethan's expression seemed to change from helpless confusion to almost child-like wonder, she could practically see the essence of Ethan Hunt suddenly flicker back on in his eyes. Like a blanket coming down on any of the pain he had to be feeling, his training as an agent and his instinctive need to assess the situation brought him back to the here and now. Blinking once, slowly, and then once more, though not moving his head just yet, he was clearly struggling to get back in control of his own body.

"What…. happened?"

The words were relatively audible. But the way his eyes were moving in and out of focus while he spoke them made everybody wonder if his seemingly coherent speech was nothing more than one heck of a good act.

Their suspicion was confirmed when he tried to raise his head, only to drop it again right away after merely a few inches.

"I bet you are dizzier than hell right now, so you might want to not try that again too quickly," Brandt chastised him from the side, making Ethan slightly move his head in his direction.

"Can't."

"Can't what?" Benji asked, surprised at Ethan's words, wondering if they had missed any other injuries, perhaps his spine. Was Ethan trying to let them know he couldn't have gotten up even if he wanted?

"Can't … stay .. down."

Oh.

Well, there went that theory.

"You gotta be kidding, Ethan." Jane was now speaking up as well, holding yet another fresh bandage against Ethan's head. The bleeding was fortunately slowing, but it still hadn't stopped.

"Hendricks ….w'll be …h-ere.. s-soon. I' h-ave to... ge-t rea-dy."

The longer Ethan spoke, the more obvious it became that his speech was not as smooth as he wanted to make it sound. He was clearly struggling to put the right syllables together to form the words. Whether Ethan wanted to admit it or not, he had gotten his head rattled, but hard.

"You don't seriously think you can still go up there and pose as Hendricks?" Brandt exclaimed.

"Got a bet-ter.. plan.., Brandt?" Ethan's slurred words came out a little sharper this time. And they were aimed right at the man kneeling above him, daring him to give them a better choice, any choice at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When he was answered with silence from Brandt, and decisively shocked glances from Jane and Benji, Ethan forced himself to close his eyes for a moment to collect himself. Okay. Different tactic needed.

Keeping his eyes closed, his right hand searched for purchase on the ground beside him to use for leverage. Slowly raising his head again, then his whole upper body, he used every inch of concentration to not give in to the vertigo that was attacking all of his senses like a sea of stars. Focusing instead on his will to get himself upright, he kept rising, his eyes still closed, mind over matter, until he was sitting more or less upright on the floor.

A look of fierce concentration on Ethan's face was the only outward sign of the battle being fought inside his aching head – unless you were so bold as to also notice the almost vice-like hold Ethan's right hand had taken of Brandt's forearm in order to steady himself. Anything to keep the world from sliding out of focus again. Now if only he could also get a hold of Benji's nonstop jabbering. The constant stream of 'no, no, no, …..no, this is not a good idea…not a good idea at all….', seemed to all scramble up around Ethan, making him even dizzier.

"Please, shut up. Please…", Ethan whispered, his voice barely audible.

Immediate, blissfull quiet.

'Thank you,' he thought.

Ethan was well aware he was going way too fast, but he also knew that if they were to have a snowball's chance in hell of actually accomplishing their mission, he was gonna have to keep going. The only problem was that he would have to open his eyes for this next part. And he knew he would probably need _some_ help.

"You gotta help me up."

He didn't wait for their acknowledgement, because frankly, the only reaction he expected was a resounding 'NO!' - Instead he simply re-evaluated his existing hold on Brandt's arm, and used it as an unsuspecting anchor to pull himself off the ground. At the last possible moment, he also opened his eyes to try and see what else he could get a hold of now that he was halfway on his feet.

"Whoa…"

Big mistake. As soon as his eyes tried to focus, he immediately felt like someone was splitting his skull open with an axe. His legs never stood a chance of holding him.

Only Brandt's and Benji's quick reflexes saved him from crashing down on his face for the second time in the same day. Between the two of them, they held Ethan upright, if not on his own two feet at first.

"Not a good idea, man." Brandt chimed in from somewhere off the side near Ethan's left elbow, once they had a relatively good hold of their team leader. Jane immediately tried to steady Ethan's head to keep the cut from reopening due to all the sudden movements.

"Ethan, you can barely stand! How are you gonna make the deal, let alone with a woman who can kill you as soon as she looks at you? This is insane!"

Ethan silently agreed. It was insane. But seeing how they did not have a choice, it was also obvious he would rather die trying than sit here and wait for his head to stop hurting while the world sank into Nuclear War.

"And what if I do the talking?" Brand suddenly cut in.

The sudden silence in the room was only appreciated by Ethan, because frankly, it made his head hurt just a little less.

"Have you lost your mind?" Jane asked in bewilderment at Brandt's totally unexpected offer. Admittedly, Brandt himself wasn't entirely sure what had made him say it.

But to Brandt's defense, he had also witnessed Ethan's degree of determination first-hand before, and he knew one thing for sure: You didn't stand a chance of keeping Ethan away once he put his mind on something. Not unless you locked him up in Fort Knox, hid the key and put an extra platoon of guards on him so he'd stay put. And probably even that wouldn't work for long.

The only way to keep Ethan from coming after them on his own, and possibly injuring himself further, would be to include him in the plan. Considering how Jane was still looking at Brandt with a clearly outraged 'are you nuts?' look, the analyst quickly elaborated.

"There's no rule that says Hendricks has to do much else besides being there and getting his codes, right?"

Jane answered with silence.

"Right?" Brandt repeated the question.

Still no answer from Jane. Although she looked like she was starting to consider _thinking_ about it. Meanwhile, it was Benji who brought up another problem:

"Okay, let's assume you get in there, but what if she knows that none of you are Hendricks?" Benji glanced fearfully at the unused mask machine behind them, painfully aware that there wasn't enough time left to prepare one, "You'd have no backup in there, and you're up against killer girl herself, plus probably more evil guard guys than you can handle even on a good day….," at Brandt's sharp look of dismay Benji quickly added, "…no offense, really."

"If it …comes to that .. we'll handle it," a soft, almost steady voice quietly interrupted their argument.

Everyone's head immediately turned to Ethan. Having stayed silent during the entire exchange, Ethan had obviously used the time to collect himself. He still remained decidedly shaky, and his head was aching like no tomorrow, but he was also slowly getting a feel for his legs again. At least enough to not keel over instantly, if he really concentrated.

Jane saw the questioning look Ethan directed at her. Regardless of the insanity of this whole plan, she really didn't like the way Ethan's eyes kept moving way too slow, a sure-fire indicator of a serious head injury, but admittedly the man WAS on his feet and he wasn't bringing up his lunch. Yet.

"Alright," Jane finally conceded, "So you both go in, Brandt does the talking, checks the codes and you…," she looked intently at Ethan,"…_you_ play the _silent_ big boss routine. Just concentrate on staying on your feet, okay?"

She looked worriedly at Ethan, who in turn managed to turn up one of his famous smiles, albeit it didn't hold for more than a second before he had to close his eyes again to ward off another dizzy spell. He was glad that Brandt still hadn't let go of him entirely.

Seeing that Brandt had things well in hand, literally, Benji sprinted over to the nearby desk to grab the briefcase. In the meantime, Jane did her best to clean up the cut on Ethan's face, finishing up by putting a skin-colored, extra-strong medical sealer gel over the cut as a temporary prevention against any more bleeding. It would have to be fixed surgically later, but they just didn't have the time right now. All she could do for the moment was to make the cut look unnoticeable enough so Morreau wouldn't ask the wrong questions.

Getting an 'okay' nod from Jane once she was done, Benji handed the case over to Brandt, who grabbed it with his left hand, leaving his right one free to keep a steadying grip around Ethan's midriff. If this was to work, Ethan needed to conserve as much of his strength as possible, and Brandt was determined not to withdraw his help until he absolutely had to.

Together they watched Benji get on his way out the door to move to his position. Jane was ready to leave as well.

"You guys ready?" she turned around to face them once more.

The question was directed at both of them, but her worried eyes were firmly fixed on Ethan's face. And it was Ethan who answered her quietly:

"Let's go."

To be continued...soon. ; )


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The walk down the corridor was long. At least that's what it felt like to Brandt. He didn't even want to imagine how long the route had to feel for the man who was currently doing his best to stay upright at Brandt's side. In the elevator going down, Brandt had asked Ethan one more time if he was sure he really wanted to go ahead with the plan. The only answer Brandt had gotten was a short nod, and a look that had frozen Brandt's every thought of asking again.

Except for a strategic re-combing of Ethan's hair to hide the cut over his eye, there was no outward difference in Ethan's appearance at all. Only if you knew Ethan, you would have noticed that he wasn't moving at his usual energetic stride.

As an analyst, Brandt wasn't entirely sure how full field-agents like Ethan managed to do what they did, but whatever it was, it was obviously working.

They had just reached the door. Room 118G.

"Alright, this is it. Once we go in, there's no going back. Are you ready?" Brandt turned to look at Ethan beside him to make sure Ethan hadn't changed his mind.

But the second Brandt's eyes came to rest on Ethan, the analyst nearly did a double take. In one moment, he was seeing Ethan's body leaning slightly forward as if his forehead was about to come to rest against the door in front of them. But in the next second a shiver seemed to run through Ethan, like a current of new energy he must have found God knows where. Before Brand's eyes, Ethan's chin went up, his shoulders straightened – and his eyes cleared. It was the most amazing thing Brandt had ever seen.

"Go." Ethan's voice was nothing more than a whisper, but Brandt knew an order when he heard one.

Brandt didn't hesitate, nor did he have to be told twice. He went ahead and knocked on the door, putting on his own game face as well.

A man opened the door and ushered them in. Brandt had to go in first. Which meant he couldn't see whether Ethan was moving in behind him. But since they weren't shot on sight, Brandt assumed Ethan was doing okay. They were then searched for weapons. A subtle sidelong glance showed Brandt that Ethan didn't even twitch a muscle as rough hands patted him down and searched his pockets. It must have been agony for Ethan to stand with his hands up like that. But there was nothing Brandt could do to help him. When the guards were finally done, Brandt almost fainted from relief as they were both allowed to sit down.

Making sure not to be too obvious about it, he kept throwing quick glances in Ethan's direction, pretending to wordlessly check for consent with his 'boss' whenever appropriate.

But in truth he was doing his best to try and assess how Ethan was holding up. And frankly, Brandt was starting to wonder if he himself was having a memory problem. He could have sworn that this man sitting on a chair right next to him was the same one who had only ten minutes ago met face first with a rather unforgiving steel beam, only one floor up from here.

'Jeez, I knew he was good, but this is scary.' Brandt thought.

They managed to get through the initial introductions - with Brandt doing the talking and Ethan doing an impressive act of 'I don't talk to you, I'm just here to make sure I get my money's worth'.

If Brandt hadn't known better, even he would have believed the act.

But he did know better. And when he really put his mind to it, Brandt did notice the small signs that no one else saw. Like the way Ethan's back didn't even touch the backrest of the chair he sat on. From Moreau's point of view, this little detail could be interpreted as nothing more than an eccentric habit. But for Brandt it screamed of 'if I relax my back for even a second, I won't get up alive'.

When you looked even closer, there was also the way Ethan's head didn't make _any_ unnecessary movements – he was a picture of efficiency. A pointed glance here or a short glare there, it didn't take much for the 'silent boss' to convincingly order Brandt around. On the inside, Brandt was quietly breathing a sigh of relief. Whatever Ethan couldn't bring physically, he sure made up for it in spades by sheer presence and charisma.

Okay, time to check the documents.

'Come on, Brandt,' he chastised himself, 'concentrate on your own job. You're no help to Ethan if you get him killed because you're too distracted by his performance.'

Brandt began clicking his way through the files, his left eye making the necessary copies. For a while, everyone seemed to be waiting for him to finish. It wasn't easy to make the eye-click look natural, but he figured if Ethan was capable of successfully concealing a serious concussion, his own acting job as a human copying machine ought to be a walk in the park compared to that.

He concentrated on each page until he finally reached the last one. Giving an honest sigh of relief, he eventually looked up from the final page.

"They're okay."

He grabbed the stack and put it back on the table. Then he glanced over to Ethan for further instructions.

And he didn't like what he saw. During the two or three minutes it had taken Brandt to check the files, Ethan had clearly began to sweat.

Not that Brandt himself wasn't sweating. But in his case it was nerves.

And if you knew that under normal circumstances, Ethan Hunt was pretty much capable of jogging through the equivalent of the Sahara dessert without breaking a sweat, the sheen of perspiration on Ethan's forehead was an alarming sight.

Brandt wondered if Moreau had noticed yet. Fortunately, in either case, the sweating wasn't yet severe enough that it couldn't be attributed to the hot Dubai climate. But considering the signs, Brandt was starting to wonder just how much longer Ethan would be able to keep up the façade. They had to hurry up.

"You got my diamonds?" The question forced Brandt's attention back to Moreau. But before he could give a reply, Ethan took the initiative, once again showing that – while he wasn't wasting any words – he WAS still the man calling the shots.

With a smooth motion of his hand that belied his true constitution, Ethan flipped the phone from his pocket and right into Brandt's hand, giving him the slightest of stern nods as an order to 'go ahead, have the diamonds brought in'.

Benji arrived within the minute, and left as efficiently as he had appeared. They sat quietly waiting for Moreau to check the diamonds. Apparently satisfied, she eventually poured them into her bag.

Next, she handed the documents to Brandt.

And before Brandt knew what was happening, all hell broke loose.

xoxoxoxoxox

To be continued, (and sorry for the cliffhanger... ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Had anybody asked Brandt to describe what happened just before all hell broke loose, he would have told them this:

He recalled a shouted order, something French, and next thing he knew he had a foot in his chest, kicking him backwards.

He struggled to get his hands on the attacker, doing his best to duck under more blows while delivering his own punches whenever possible. For several moments he was entirely busy with staying alive. When he was finally able to dispatch the attacker, he quickly realized that another one was coming right at him. He realized it would be one or two seconds at best before that one would be on him as well.

He used these precious few second to look behind him.

And what he saw shocked him to the core.

Ethan was on his feet.

How that had happened, or when, Brandt didn't know. But he was hard-pressed to not look on in awe, as he saw there was one thug already laid out behind Ethan's feet.

'Never tell an agent to stay out of a fight when the chips are down, I guess', Brandt couldn't help thinking.

More than experienced in spotting trouble, Ethan had obviously reacted on pure instinct the moment Moreau called out. Judging by his overturned chair and the kicked-aside coffee table, Ethan must have dispatched the first guard in one snap move before Brandt had even left his seat. But just as Brandt was about to check how Ethan was dealing with yet another thug closing in, Brandt's own attacker was demanding his full attention again. The last image he saw of Ethan was that of the other guard landing a heavy blow against Ethan's sternum.

He didn't see Ethan again until roughly a minute later, when the fighting was over.

And the image that presented itself to Brandt at that point was in stark contrast to what he had last seen of his friend. Because as it turned out, the first glance he got in Ethan's direction showed him …

Nothing.

He couldn't see Ethan.

What he did see was the man that Ethan had been fighting last. The guy was out cold on the floor, his neck at an unnatural angle, suggesting that he would never bother Ethan ever again.

But where on earth was Ethan?

Then Brandt heard a sound that he vaguely remembered from the aftermath of his own IMF graduation party.

It was the sound of dry retching. Violently.

Immediately Brandt tried to locate the origin of the moaning, which just then turned into harsh coughing and painful groans.

When Brandt eventually found it, he spotted Ethan half-standing, half-kneeling behind the overturned conference table. And even from afar, it was obvious that Ethan was barely keeping to his feet, holding himself upright with one hand against the wall as his only leverage.

"Ethan?" Brandt called out in worry, ready to step forward and reach out to Ethan. But then he stopped himself short.

Even in his hurry to help Ethan, Brandt realized suddenly that approaching a trained agent right after a major fight without any precautions might not be the smartest thing to do. Ethan might no longer be capable of differentiating between friend and foe. And while Brandt wasn't entirely sure that Ethan was much of a physical threat at the moment, the last guy with the broken neck might have thought the same thing. So, better to be safe than sorry.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" Brandt called out, keeping a close eye on the man in front of him. Slowly inching forward, he kept one arm slightly stretched out ahead to react to anything Ethan might do.

Ethan's face still showed no signs of recognition. But Brandt could now see beads of sweat pearling on Ethan's forehead, and the cut across his eyebrow had been reopened in the fight.

Slowly, carefully, Brandt reached out and touched Ethan's arm. There was a definite tremble in Ethan's shoulders, the leftovers of an extreme adrenaline high. And he was coming down fast. For a moment Ethan appeared to be raising his head, as if trying to see who was touching his arm. Brandt saw him make eye contact for about two seconds. Then Ethan blinked once. Just once.

Almost instantly, Brandt found himself catching pretty much all of Ethan's weight, as the agent's legs seemed to simply fold in on him without any warning.

"Jesus…", Brandt exclaimed in surprise and shock, his arms suddenly full as he tried his best to keep to his feet without dropping Ethan.

"Jane, we got trouble!" he practically yelled into the hidden microphone on his jacket collar.

"What kind .. of …trouble..?" the sound of harsh breathing came through the comm link as Jane seemed to be pushing around something or someone.

"Moreau is gone, and Ethan is down!" Brandt reported tensely.

A moment of static followed, until Jane was back, this time much stronger and with her full attention on what Brandt had just told her.

"I've got Moreau, Benji is watching her right now. I'm coming down."

Brandt could hear the sound of an elevator through his comm, then Jane was back on-line asking, "Just what happened down there?"

Now it was Jane's turn to have to wait a moment before she got an answer, as Brandt was busy trying to lift Ethan's unconscious form onto the sofa to make him more comfortable. Once he had made sure that Ethan was still breathing, Brandt answered Jane.

"She made us somehow, and her guys tried to take us out. We won, but Ethan is in bad shape."

As he looked down at the unconscious man on the couch, he was getting the feeling that 'bad shape' was probably putting it mildly.

He let his gaze wander over Ethan's still form once more, but suddenly stopped short. Where there been a relatively steady rise and fall of Ethan's chest just moments ago, there was now nothing. No more movement. A cold feeling of dread hit Brandt like a bucket of ice.

Ethan wasn't breathing.

-o-

-o-

-o-

-o-

_Sorry for another cliffhanger, I promise to try and do better next time….maybe…or maybe it'll just get worse from here on in. *evil laugh* ;)_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Jane, I need help down here, NOW!" Brandt yelled into the mike, no longer even trying to suppress the rising panic he felt. Immediately he leaned forward to check Ethan's pulse, and he almost swore out loud when he couldn't find that either.

"Don't you give up on me now, man," Brandt threatened Ethan, "You just saved my ass back there, so don't even think about quitting on me."

Letting his anger overpower his fear, he quickly shoved the table next to the couch out of the way, thus clearing the ground before it to carefully slide Ethan in one fluid move onto the flat surface of the floor. Slightly tilting Ethan's head back for better circulation of air, Brand immediately began CPR, counting out with every push on Ethan's chest. He knew he was gonna leave one hell of a bruise on Ethan's ribcage, but that was the least of his worries as he alternated between the chest compressions and breathing for Ethan.

"Come on, man," *gasp*, "come one… ," he rasped. "Damn you, Ethan, come back!" He was getting desperate as he started yet another round of compressions.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally heard Jane's voice announcing her arrival at the doorway.

"Brandt? Where are you?" she called out into the room, not spotting him right away. But as she stepped inside, getting a different point of view in the room, she suddenly saw him.

And she saw what he was doing.

"Oh shit-…"

No, please, not Ethan. God, she should have _never_ let him down here in the first place.

"I can't get him to breathe," Brandt called out desperately, getting more and more out of breath by the minute, but not stopping what he was doing.

"Keep up the compressions," Jane immediately called out to him as she hurried over to take up position next to Ethan's head. While Brandt continued with the CPR, she instantly took over the task of breathing for Ethan, her lungs still fresh and thus able to push even more life-saving oxygen into Ethan's body.

After two more minutes of both of them working on saving Ethan's life, they were finally rewarded with a sudden intake of air from Ethan. It was nothing more than a short gasp, followed by a dry cough, but the sound was like music to their ears.

"Yes!" Jane exclaimed, breathless with relief. Her hand reached down to check Ethan's neck for his pulse. It wasn't great, but it was there.

Brandt just looked totally exhausted, not knowing whether he could actually believe the miracle he had just witnessed.

But as he saw Ethan's chest slowly moving up and down again, taking shallow but steady breaths, Brandt was willing to relax his cramped hands and settle back on his haunches.

"Thank God."

They may have lost Hendricks and the codes, but at least they hadn't lost Ethan as well.

They would have to regroup, get Ethan someplace safe before they could try and stop Hendricks for good. But for now, all that mattered was that Ethan alive, if still deeply unconscious.

"We gotta get him out of here and somewhere where we can take care of him," Jane vocalized Brandt's thoughts.

"I'll get Benji in here," Brandt nodded, "Moreau will have to take long nap until we can pick her up later. For now let's get Ethan to the car and we all move to the safe house."

Jane stayed with Ethan, while Brandt went upstairs to get Benji. She kept checking Ethan's breathing to make sure he didn't have a relapse.

"Jane?" Brandt's voice suddenly came on over the com unit.

"Go."

"We won't have to worry about taking Moreau along."

She hesitated a moment, but then she asked.

"Why?"

A pause on Brandt's end, before he hesitantly answered.

"Well…. because _apparently_ she somehow overpowered Benji, and I just ran into her in the hallway."

"Please don't tell me she got away." Jane felt her anger flare up at the injustice of it all.

"Okay, I won't," Brandt replied with a short cough, before adding, "but the alternative is that unfortunately she tried to get back at Benji and I had to shoot her in the leg. Then she uhm… well… she fell."

For a moment Jane wanted to ask 'onto what?'….until she remembered the open window in their suite. She resisted the urge to curse. While she was glad that Hannaway had been avenged, there was also a part of her that remembered Ethan's words on how Moreau was not to be touched, and no matter how much she wanted Moreau dead, it now felt like she had let Ethan down.

She was almost glad that Ethan was currently out cold and she didn't have to give him this news just yet.

A few minutes later, Benji and Brandt appeared back in the room together. They had made short-work of packing up their stuff upstairs, not leaving any traceable material of their presence behind. Now that they were back, and with Jane keeping a sharp eye out for any more trouble, Brandt and Benji took on the task of carrying Ethan out into the hallway.

Slowly, so as not to hurt their fragile burden, they made it down the hall to the elevators, each of the men having slung one of Ethan's arms over their shoulders. Both also made sure to keep a careful hold of Ethan's midriff to steady him between them as they walked.

It wasn't ideal, but in order not to draw any unwanted attention, their best plan of retreat was to make it look like Ethan was merely someone who had had one glass too many. Brandt and Benji played the helpful drinking buddies, while Jane deflected any curious glances by smiling apologetically and bringing up the rear on their way down, through the lobby and out to the car.

Once there, they carefully settled Ethan on the backseat of their jeep, while Jane slid into the driver's seat. Letting Benji take care of their packs, Brandt stayed in the back with Ethan, keeping a secure hold of him so he wouldn't be jostled around too much.

About half-way to their destination, Ethan seemed to be breathing a little easier. In fact, Brandt was starting to see little signs of him actually coming around.

"Jane, slow down a little, okay?" Brandt called out, without taking his eyes off Ethan.

"What, why?" Jane asked in surprise, her first thought being that something was wrong with Ethan.

"I think he's coming around…" Brandt replied, and just as he finished the statement he was awarded with a sight he had been worried he'd never see again.

Ethan's eyes were slowly opening, and even though they weren't focused on anything just yet, it still was a sight to behold.

It sure was enough to make Brandt breathe easier with relief.

"Welcome back, man. You do know you had us worried there for a while, right?" Brandt spoke softly, attempting a joke that would hopefully cover up all the obvious signs of how worried he had been.

At first Ethan didn't seem to react at all, just lying there stretched out on the backseat. After a moment his head slowly turned toward where Brandt was sitting right across from him. It was another moment before Ethan's eyes eventually began to try and focus on whoever had addressed him.

"Br-an-dt…?" Ethan's voice was paper-thin. But it was clearly his voice, and in this very moment, that sound was the most beautiful thing Brandt had ever heard.

"Right here, boss." Brandt smiled down at him.

Ethan blinked once, clearly not entirely with it yet. But then he began to look around himself, becoming aware of where he was. Whatever had happened, it occurred to him that he had obviously missed a thing or two.

"How long…?"

"Since you been out or until we arrive at the safe house?" Brandt asked happily.

The pointed look Ethan slowly directed at Brandt wasn't up to its normal threat level, but it held enough of a 'you're gonna get your ass handed to you if you keep this up' promise to make Brandt elaborate a little more:

"Well, we're about ten minutes away from the motel, and," he glanced at his watch, "you missed about an hour's worth of no-fun news regarding our little plan to stop Hendricks from getting those codes."

Ethan closed his eyes, not believing what he was hearing.

"Hendricks has the codes and Moreau won't be helping us either," Jane added in from up front, although she made it a point to keep her eyes strictly on the road ahead and away from the rear-view mirror so as not to see Ethan's expression as he took in the news. She still wasn't completely sure how she should feel about Moreau's fate, and in order to hopefully get Ethan's mind off that particular detail for now, she quickly added, "You were lucky to make it out of there alive, Ethan."

"Yeah, what she said," Brandt tried to scowl at Ethan, "You really scared the hell out of me, you know that?"

But Brandt's amicable threat fell exceptionally short, when Ethan suddenly made a rather uncoordinated attempt to actually sit up.

"Whoa,… what do you think you're doing, man?" Brandt was just in time to grab a hold of Ethan's shoulder to keep him from rolling right off the seat.

You could have cut the tension in the jeep with a butter knife.

"I'm getting back on my feet," Ethan replied with terse determination, trying his damndest to ignore the waves of nausea that hit him as soon as his head left the cushion of the seat.

"No you're not!", both Benji and Jane protested loudly, but Ethan was listening to neither. He was also ignoring the steadying grip Brandt had on his arm. That is until he felt a slight prick on that arm.

With a surprised frown Ethan looked down to determine the source of the unexpected sting. He saw Brandt's hand. It was still holding the small syringe Ethan had just been injected with. And all of a sudden, Ethan's world began to tilt.

Fixing a desperate stare on Brandt, Ethan's eyes grew wide as he realized he had just been hit with a tranquilizer. His skin was already tickling in a weird way. And he suddenly felt very, very tired.

In an absurd but probably instinctive attempt to undo what Brandt had done, Ethan tried to make a reach for Brandt's arm, actually grabbing a hold of it for a moment. But his vision was already beginning to grey out. Ethan barely felt it anymore when Brandt's fingers changed their hold on his wrist, as the analyst checked his pulse for any possible reaction to the medication.

With a fast-fading grasp on consciousness, Ethan felt himself slowly sink back onto the seat as the world fell away. The last words he heard were a garbled echo of 'you need to sleep, so get some rest', coming from somewhere above him, before his consciousness left him for good and his body relaxed into the seat.

-o-

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_Okay, this chapter was a bit longer than expected. I hope you liked it anyway. More to come... soon. :o)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you for all your kind reviews. I really appreciate hearing from ya'll about what you think of the story. There are only two more chapters to go, and as a little Thank You gift I am gonna post them both together in one go. _

_Enjoy! :-) and again, thank you very much for reading my story._

**Chapter 9**

Voices. Distant. Angry, shouting.

He was in a small room. No one close-by. A bed. One door, slightly left ajar. A short hallway behind that. Pain. But no longer as blinding as before.

Ethan's mind subconsciously collected all this information before he had even fully opened his eyes – it was second nature to him. Where he was exactly, he couldn't tell yet, but obviously this was 'safe' territory. His attention then went back to the voices filtering through the hallway towards him.

Flexing his tired muscles to test his mobility, he slowly raised his upper body slightly off the bed, until he was able to prop himself up on his elbow. So far, so good. The vertigo was mostly gone. All that remained was a distinctive pounding inside his head, but he could live with that. Provided he could shut up whoever was quarreling out there.

With that thought in mind, and his memory of recent events also returning, he carefully sat up straight. It was a bit dizzying at first, and he felt the blood rush through his veins, but after a moment of consideration, he felt ready to go ahead.

With caution he tenderly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. When his bare feet touched the ground, he realized that someone had obviously taken the time to take off his shoes and socks before depositing him on the bed to rest. As he looked around the room, he noticed his shoes right by the foot of the bed, the socks neatly tugged inside.

Taking great care not to lean down too far in order to not screw up his balance, he slowly reached for them and then put them on. Spotting his gun and ammo on the night desk beside the bed, he pocketed those items as well.

That done, he made a move to get up.

'Whoa, steady there…' he almost fell right back onto the bed, to which he just barely managed to hold on.

A deep breath. Okay. Let's try that again. _Much_ slower.

This time he managed to keep standing. It didn't look perfect, and he figured he would probably need some time-off once this mission was over, but he was functioning again. It would have to do.

He could now hear what the voices were arguing about. Not necessarily because the pounding in his head had settled down – it hadn't, as far as he could tell– but apparently the voices were getting louder. From what he could gather, Jane was laying into Benji, and Brandt was not far behind.

Okay, time to join the fun.

Taking even, measured steps across the room, he unerringly turned into the open hallway and followed it until he reached the main room.

He decided not to announce his arrival. Instead, he simply stepped into the room. Jane and Brandt, who were still busy getting at each other's throats, didn't even notice him at first. But Benji, who sat across from them and happened to look in the direction, had a clear view of Ethan's arrival. And the shocked look on Benji's face, which actually paled as he saw Ethan suddenly standing there in the doorway, made everyone else turn around as well.

"Ethan? What are you doing up!" Jane's eyes widened in surprise at seeing Ethan on his own two feet already.

Brandt - clearly in concert with Jane's reaction - was too surprised to say anything at all, and contented himself for the moment with merely gaping at Ethan. Ethan's reply was a small smile.

"It sounded to me like you all needed a referee," he began lightly, but then let his seriousness shine through, "That _is_ part of my job, last time I checked."

There was no animosity in his words. But everyone knew he was stating a fact – one that he would never negotiate on. And while their current situation might not look like they had anything left to fall back on, the expression on Ethan's face showed that he was determined to get everyone's heads back on track in order to complete the mission – or die trying.

It was Benji who eventually reacted the first out of the team, hesitantly raising his hand in an attempt to diffuse the tension in the room, even though it made him felt a bit like a volunteer on the way to the firing range – not really knowing if he would get his head shot off for attempting to spread peace.

"We were just getting to talking about what to do next," Benji informed Ethan, who in turn, after a tense moment of apparent evaluation, eventually nodded slowly in acceptance.

"Okay, so you wanna fill me in…?" Ethan asked conciliatorily, only adding as a subtle afterthought, "because I guess I…._missed_ _out_ on couple of more hours lately." At these words he shot a dry glance at Brandt, who immediately dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly finding his shoes pretty darn interesting.

Over the next ten minutes – during which Brandt tried his best to not antagonize Ethan in any more ways whatsoever – Jane and Benji took on the task of updating Ethan on the latest developments. And, truth to be told, those weren't looking particularly good.

Lensiker was dead. Moreau was dead. And Hendricks had possession of active nuclear launch codes, enabling him to start a global nuclear war.

'No wonder my head is pounding,' Ethan thought darkly as Jane finished her analysis.

"Our only chance now would be to stop Hendricks from actually _using_ those codes," Brandt added his final assessment to the situation, having joined in the report half-way through, "But we don't know where or when he will do that."

Benji, who was once again back at work at his computer table, wordlessly just nodded his head in agreement with Brandt's conclusion.

Ethan eventually broke the pensive silence that filled the room:

"Okay, if we don't know where and when he will use the codes, what about the how?"

They were all taken a bit by surprise at his question.

Benji, being the computer expert that he was, recovered first. The second he realized they had not really thought of that angle yet, he began checking the necessary information. Soon he found what he was looking for:

"Well, the way this looks he would need at least a satellite uplink to activate the codes. A military satellite, that is. Or one that used to be military."

"Then we gotta find one of those." Ethan caught the ball and went with it.

"And hope we find Hendricks at the same place? That's thin, Ethan, very thin," Jane cautioned him.

But Ethan was already thinking, going through numerous mental lists to figure out where to get the information he needed.

"I think I can narrow it down. But it'll take a few hours." Ethan said, already moving towards the desk where Benji was sitting so he could pick up the sunglasses that lay there.

He knew the sun outside would be bright – this was Dubai, after all – and the shades would hopefully keep the throbbing of his skull down to a manageable level. Because he _really_ needed a clear head right now. So with that foresight in mind he put the shades on, and then turned towards the door.

"Wait a minute, Ethan, where do you think you're going?" Jane was out of her chair the second she realized Ethan was actually intending to go outside, and she quickly stepped forward in an attempt to call him back.

"I'm gonna find out where exactly we need to go to stop Hendricks." Ethan said evenly as he came to a halt just inside the door, his hand already on the handle, but not turning it just yet. He then looked back at his team.

"I have friends in the area, and they don't like strangers, so I want you to wait here until I get back."

Seeing Jane's doubting expression, and Benji's equally disapproving 'huh?', Ethan momentarily let go of the door handle to turn around and fully face his entire team, looking at them one by one as he spoke:

"Be ready to leave when I give you a call. Until then …," Ethan's gaze returned pointedly to Brandt at last, "don't try to go behind my back again."

Whether Ethan was referring to the killing of Moreau – which admittedly could be counted as a direct violation of Ethan's order to keep her alive – or if this was more about the fact that Brandt had basically drugged Ethan against his will – Brandt wasn't sure. Until he met Ethan's eyes, and he realized that for Ethan, there _was_ no distinction between disobeyed orders – and while both instances were apparently forgiven as of this moment and never to be spoken of again, it suddenly hit Brandt that he had just been given the promise that there _would_ be serious consequences if he ever decided to go toe to toe with Ethan again.

It was a friendly warning. A simple message, given one time only.

If you screwed with Ethan Hunt, you would lose. End of message.

And Brandt got the message loud and clear. Since his mama hadn't raised a fool, he decided then and there that if it ever came down to it, he would rather jump off the next available cliff without a parachute than ever piss off Ethan Hunt for real. Thank you, but no thank you. There were some things you just didn't do. Like pulling the pin of a grenade without throwing it away. Or eating a cactus without disposing of the thorns first. It was one thing to be stupid once, but to knowingly go against Ethan when lives were in the balance, that was a mistake no one got to make twice.

With those thoughts in mind, Brandt watched as the door closed behind Ethan.

And then they waited.

-o-

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_Okay, one more final chapter and you've made it. :o)_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Whoever Ethan's 'friends' were, they apparently were efficient. And quick. No more than two hours after Ethan had left, Brandt's cell phone rang and he was told to bring everyone to the airport. They would be taking a plane to go after Hendricks.

As they drove towards the airport, neither Brandt nor Jane or Benji knew what to expect. They hadn't been told the plan. Or if there even was one. But as soon as they reached the airfield that Ethan had given them directions to, the first thing they saw was a private jet on the runway. One HECK of a private jet.

"Where does he get those things?" Benji asked in amazement, just as Brandt pulled up to the landing strip. Even Jane looked in awe. Brandt eventually stopped the car and they got out to greet Ethan.

He looked ... fine.

No new injuries. So his 'friends' had apparently been friendly indeed.

"Where are we going?" Brandt eventually asked, as the team came to a halt in front of Ethan.

"India."

"India?" Jane looked up.

Ethan nodded with a slow smile.

As Benji and Jane went ahead to get on board, Brandt hung behind a bit. He waited until Ethan came over to face him. Neither of them said a word, but after a moment, they both raised their hands for a firm handshake, each one letting the other know that all was good between them. They would trust each other from here on in.

"You know, this _really_ is a nice jet," Brandt quipped as he finally stepped onto the waiting stepladder. His words were met with an immeasurable grin by Ethan.

"Just wait 'til you see the car."

-o-

-o-

_And the movie tells the rest…_


End file.
